


only waiting for this moment to arise

by akaparalian



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-31 23:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6492088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaparalian/pseuds/akaparalian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Liking you was <i>my</i> idea, not yours. Don’t think you tricked me into it with your -- your wings and your kissing. Asshole.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	only waiting for this moment to arise

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, HQ!! fandom, I am in you. Take this as a token of my appreciation. *throws fic and runs*
> 
> Title from Blackbird by the Beatles, because I am Just That Basic.

Tobio can’t help it: he stares.

“K-kageyama?” Hinata’s voice is uncharacteristically timid, but then again, he would probably be nervous too if her was the one with big, shiny black _wings_ jutting out of his shoulderblades. Despite himself, he has to suck in a breath. They’re _beautiful_. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

“You’re the one who’s freaking out, dumbass,” he says absently, but he’s concentrating way less on what he’s saying and way more on the hand that’s reaching out and hovering just centimeters away from Hinata’s… feathers. He has _feathers_. Dumbstruck, all Tobio can thinks is, _so is this why it seems like he can fly sometimes?_

Instead of that, though, and instead of touching -- on second thought, that seems like it might be rude without permission, and it’s Hinata so ordinarily he wouldn’t care, but Hinata has _wings_ \-- he quickly retracts his hand and asks, “Have they always…”

“Yeah.” They flutter nervously as Hinata speaks, a tiny motion that nevertheless sends a breeze ruffling through Tobio’s hair. “But I’ve never… shown anyone before. Except my parents.”

Impossibly, his heartbeat quickens further. His mind goes very nearly blank; the only nonsensical thought he’s capable of is _Good_.

Tobio has to admit, when Hinata had come to him after practice and said “I need to show you something,” this was… not what he pictured. Granted, he’s not really sure what he _was_ expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for Hinata to carefully wait for everyone else to go home and then strip out of his shirt -- “Shut up, dummy, just trust me” -- and shake his shoulders like he’d slept on them wrong, and unfurl… _wings_.

“How does that even _work_?” he asks, wracking his brain for any hint of a clue in his memories. Because while he’s certainly touched Hinata’s back and shoulders before -- during matches, when they’re wrestling to get in the door, to correct his form, whatever -- he’s never felt anything that might have betrayed the presence of wings. Not to mention that he’s seen Hinata shirtless a million times, they change in the same room every _day_ , and never noticed so much as a feather. “How… how do you keep them hidden?”

Hinata shrugs. “They’re always there, but I can sort of… wish them away. I had to teach myself how -- when I was little I wasn’t very good at it.”

He looks a lot more comfortable now, Tobio notes. He probably figures if Tobio were going to scream or call him a freak, he would have done it already. Which, he would -- except he’s not going to. Much as he likes to call Hinata names, this would be a really, really bad time for it, in no small part becuase right now he finds he doesn’t _want_ to. He’s too busy staring and trying to control his heartbeat.

“I can’t fly or anything,” Hinata continues. He seems to be on a roll now that he’s gotten started. “That’s the part that sucks. I’m too heavy to fly or something, so they’re just _there_. I guess they look pretty cool, but I can’t even see them most of the time, you know? And I can’t show them off.”

Except he’s showing them off now -- as he speaks, he slowly extends them, and for the first time Tobio realizes that the club room is almost too small for this. They can fit most of the volleyball team in here just fine, but not, apparently, Hinata’s wingspan. Especially as short as he is, he’s practically more wing than body when he extends them all the way away from himself, and for whatever dumb, pointless reason, _that_ is just another thing that makes Tobio’s heart feel like it’s trying to jump out of his chest. 

“Can I,” he says impulsively, before he can talk himself out of it, and his voice fucking _cracks_ and he hopes Hinata didn’t notice, but, “can I touch them?”

“Oh,” Hinata says, and he sounds -- pleased? He doesn’t sound like he thinks Tobio’s weird, anyway, or like he’s going to call him a pervert and run off screaming. “Um -- sure! Here…”

With a soft _whoosh_ , he pulls his wings back in towards his body, though not all the way, and then cautiously extends them again, slightly forward, toward Tobio. Tobio carefully reaches out, trying to ignore the fact that his hands are shaking a little bit.

He sinks his fingers into the silky feathers on top and then further, into the soft down, and Hinata shivers. Tobio shivers too, for that matter -- the way the sunset-light from the window reflects off Hinata’s feathers and the way they slide between his fingers is intoxicating. He can feel his cheeks burning, but Hinata’s face when he glances up at it is vivid crimson, so at the very least they’re on even footing.

“Is this okay?” he asks gruffly, and Hinata nods and shivers again when Tobio strokes his feathers. The way he’s reacting is… Tobio feels kind of dirty, and definitely like he should stop, except whether or not he _should,_ he -- he takes a moment to think about it, Hinata mumbling a wordless complaint when his hand momentarily stills, and realizes he doesn’t _want_ to stop. 

And usually… usually, Tobio would try to do what he should do, not what he wants, in a situation like this. But. Well. Hinata’s eyes, when he blinks down at them, are wide open and dewy, and he’s blushing so hard he looks like he might catch fire, and his big, shiny, beautiful black _wings_ are spread out from his shoulderblades.

Tobio doesn’t stop. Tobio leans in closer.

They’re breathing the same air. When he starts moving his hand again, stroking Hinata’s feathers with an uncharacteristic gentleness, Hinata lets out a peaceful sigh, and his head falls forward onto Tobio’s shoulder. Wings or no, he acts more like a dog than a bird, practically begging to be petted.

...Well. _That_ thought isn’t helping matters any. “What are you doing, moron?” Tobio grumbles, leaning away a little under the combined embarrassment of Hinata’s face all but pressed into his neck and his own treacherous thoughts, but Hinata just frowns and pulls him in closer.

“Feels nice, Bakageyama,” he says, and his wings flutter slightly to punctuate it. “Shut up.”

_It feels nice for me, too,_ some terrible, terrible voice in the back of Tobio’s head wants to say. He growls slightly under his breath, but allows himself to be pulled back in. Fine. If Hinata’s decided that taking off his shirt and revealing his deepest and most feathered secret makes them cuddle buddies, then -- fine. _Tobio’s_ certainly not going to be the one to back down.

Frowning, fueled by some familiar but possibly misguided urge to retaliate, he lets his fingers dance along the fine, hollow bone that makes up the framework of Hinata’s wings and moves them in closer to his shoulderblades, where the feathers are smallest and fluffiest.

Almost immediately, he recognizes his mistake: Hinata’s breath hitches, and he nuzzles -- actually _nuzzles_ \-- his way into the crook of Tobio’s neck. He tries not to let his spine stiffen or his breath quicken appreciably, but it’s a losing battle.

“S-sorry,” he mumbles, but doesn’t try to back away this time; it’s his instinct, but with the way Hinata’s clinging, it would be pointless anyway.

“No, I’m sorry,” Hinata counters, voice muffled. Tobio’s not quite sure how to tell him that what he should _really_ be apologizing for is the way his lips are brushing Tobio’s pulse with every word, so he stays quiet. “I’m just… not used to people touching them.”

“Are they…” Oh, God, he hates himself. Tobio has never hated himself more than he does right now. “...sensitive?”

He can actually _feel_ the way Hinata’s face heats up even further at the question. “Maybe,” he mumbles, his voice soft and warm and a little unsure, and suddenly Tobio can’t take it anymore.

He wrenches his fingers out of HInata’s wings and wraps them around his shoulders instead, pushing him away forcefully enough that he stays there this time.

“Hinata,” he says, then hesitates, wets his lips. “Why -- why did you show me this?”

Tobio’s holding him at arm’s length, so he has a perfect, clear view of the way it looks when Hinata bites his lip and looks at the ground, brow furrowed. His wings try to wrap around him, whether consciously or instinctively, like a glossy black shield, but they’re still close enough together that the effect is more like a feathery cocoon closing around them both.

“That’s a dumb question,” Hinata hedges, and Tobio frowns sharply at him.

“Not as dumb as not answering it,” he half-snaps, chewing his own words as they come out to keep them from being too sharp, leaning back in towards Hinata just close enough to be noticable and just far enough to be excusable. 

Hinata’s eyes snap up to him, blazing, and Tobio half-expects him to snap right back, _more_ than half-expects another insult slung at him in retaliation, because that’s what they _do_. They’re teammates -- they’re even _friends_ , there’s no way he can deny _that_ anymore -- but they toss insults and quips and jabs back and forth much more than kind words.

What he gets, though, is not what he was expecting.

Hinata leans up and tilts his head to the side at the last minute and _kisses_ him, his lips warm and a little chapped, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. It takes Tobio a heart-stopping moment to realize he’s supposed to close his, too, but he almost doesn’t want to; he wants to remember everything about this moment in perfect detail, because he’s almost certain it must be some kind of mistake.

It’s a long, heavy minute before Hinata steps back. He’s panting like it’s the end of a hard-fought set, and with a start Tobio realizes he is, too. Hinata’s eyes are open so wide they look like they’re about to fall out of his head, but there’s something slightly smug about him, too. 

“That’s why,” he grumbles, his voice breathless. “Dumbass Kageyama.”

“You’re the dumbass,” Tobio replies automatically, but it doesn’t carry even a tiny fraction of its usual heat. Well -- not the usual _kind_ of heat, anyway. He swallows heavily. “What… what was…”

The air between them feels humid, and it’s thick with something Tobio can’t quite identify, but though his chest feels tight and his palms are sweaty, it’s not a _bad_ feeling. Especially not when Hinata smiles up at him, a little nervous but mostly effervescent, and his wings, still cradling them both, tighten further around him. The long, elegant feathers -- and _long_ and _elegant_ are words he can only sometimes apply to any part of Hinata, but now if ever they fit perfectly -- shift across Tobio’s back in a way that makes his body hum.

“I like you,” Hinata says plainly, as though that statement, not to _mention_ everything else that’s happened today, doesn’t fulfill Tobio’s quota of strange and slightly terrifying experiences for at least a year. Maybe for all of high school, really.

“You like me,” he parrots back, his voice slightly strangled, and Hinata’s face splits into a wide grin.

“Yeah, and you like me, too, or you would’ve hit me by now. You’re not nice enough to turn someone down gently, you know.”

“Oi,” Tobio says, but even to his own ears it sounds weak and sort of distracted. It’s not like Hinata’s _wrong_ \-- and it’s not like he needed Hinata to _tell_ him that, thank you very much, he was _quite_ aware. He has half a mind to say so, but he shakes his head instead of opening his mouth, trying very, very hard to clear it so that some real words come out.

“You don’t get to pick,” he eventually manages. “Liking you was _my_ idea, not yours. Don’t think you tricked me into it with your -- your wings and your kissing. Asshole.”

Hinata cackles right in his face, but Tobio isn’t quite in the mood to punch him for it. “I knew showing you was the right choice,” he says happily, and then he bounces upward and kisses Tobio again, with a loud _smack_ , right on the tip of his nose. “Now I have someone to toss to me _and_ help me clean my feathers.”

That thought shouldn’t make Tobio’s heart jump. It definitely shouldn’t be _cute_. And yet.

And yet.

“Clean your own damn feathers,” he grumbles, but he reaches out for them reflexively even as he says it, so it probably doesn’t have quite the impact he was hoping for. 

“I’m just amazed you haven’t called me birdbrain yet,” Hinata laughs, then instantly seems to realize his mistake.

Tobio grins at him, and based on how Hinata usually reacts to his smiles, he doesn’t even have to _try_ to make it creepy, he just trusts that it will be. Hinata’s very audible swallow and the way he pales a bit prove him right.

But his fingers are brushing the long, ticklish edges of Hinata’s feathers, and they’re still so close, entirely in one another’s gravity, Hinata’s bare chest practically radiating heat all throughout the club room, and Tobio -- Tobio just got kissed and confessed to and, also, he just found out his teammate/friend/boyfriend (are they boyfriends now? He supposes he’ll have to ask) has wings in a way that’s quite a lot more literal than he would have thought. And, crucially, underneath it all he’s just a little bit of a sappy bastard. Just a tiny amount. So:

“But you’re _my_ birdbrain,” he says, and leans in for another kiss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hmu on Twitter [@akaparalian](https://twitter.com/akaparalian) and on Tumblr [@kon-centration](http://kon-centration.tumblr.com)!


End file.
